


Attraction

by FictionalPerson



Series: Six Stages of a Relationship [1]
Category: Shadowhunters (TV), The Mortal Instruments Series - Cassandra Clare
Genre: Attraction, F/M, First Meetings, Lies, Marriage, Pining, based on Emily and Tim, second meetings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-11
Updated: 2018-06-20
Packaged: 2019-05-21 01:23:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,473
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14905811
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FictionalPerson/pseuds/FictionalPerson
Summary: Based on the movie Emily & Tim, which is also adapted from the short story, The Pact, by Eric Webber, follow the relationship between Clary and Simon, and Clary and Jace, in six stages:1)Attraction2)Discord3)Betrayal4)Healing5)Acceptance6)Attachment





	1. Attraction: First Meetings

It’s a Saturday night - the year isn’t important - and Clary is sitting at the bar, alone, sipping her beer, waiting for some guy to come and try to charm her. 

 

None do. 

 

Well, at least not until a boy with messy brown hair, glasses, dark blue faded jeans, and some t-shirt with a band name that Clary has never heard of, sits down on the stool after the one next to her and sighs. 

 

She eyes the t-shirt. 

 

_ Champagne Enema _ , the t-shirt reads.

 

She snorts. 

 

“Nice t-shirt,” she says. 

 

He looks at her and grins. He turns his head, a smile still on his lips. “Hey,” he calls out at to one of the bartenders. He puts two fingers up. He has grabbed the bartender's attention. “Two drinks; one for me, another for the pretty redhead.” The bartender nods and the boy puts his fingers down, thrumming his fingers on the island.   

 

“Thanks,” she says. “For the drink, but I already have one.” She wiggles her fingers at the drink in her right hand with the left hand. 

 

He groans, chuckling. He slaps his head with his hand. “Sorry," he says. "That's what I get for trying to be gentlemen, huh?" 

 

She laughs. “It’s cool. Besides,” she says, eyeing a guy in the corner with blonde hair and gold eyes, dressed in a leather jacket. “I plan on getting drunk, anyway.” 

 

When she looks back at the boy, she sees the remanence of a scowl. 

 

She ignores it. 

 

“So,” she says, sipping her drink. “What’s a sweet guy like you doing flirting with - me?” 

 

“Well, there are no other sweet girls here, so I’m flirting with you,” he says, glancing around the room. 

 

“I assure you, I’m not sweet. ” She winks at him. "I'm a painter, and 26." 

 

She glances back at the guy she in the corner, and when she does, she sees that he is looking straight at her and the boy, smiling. 

 

“Hey,” she says, turning back to the boy. “Do you know that guy, in the corner?” She also finds that her drink has arrived. She grabs it and puts it aside, saving it for later. 

 

She looks back at him. The boy follows her line of eyesight, and he groans.

 

She takes that sound as confirmation. “So, yes?”    
  


“Everyone likes him,” he complains. 

 

“What?” She laughs. 

 

“Yeah. He’s a charmer. I bet you're saving your drink so you could be drunk when you go over to see him.”

 

She looks down shame causing her cheeks to flush. That was exactly her reason. 

 

“Hey.” She looks up at him. “I like you. Why don’t you give me your number.” 

 

“Really?” He sounds shocked and confused. He sputters, “What about Jace?” 

 

“Who?” 

 

“That guy.” He points to where the blonde haired man was leaning against the wall. 

 

“Yeah, he is good looking.” She scoots a seat over so she sat next to him. “But I like you. You’re innocent.” 

 

“Thanks . . . I guess?” Clary laughs. She takes a napkin and pulls a pen from her bag with a little ‘a-ha’. 

 

She scrawled her number on the napkin. 

 

_ # ### ### #### ~ Clary _

 

She stood up and kissed his cheek. 

 

“Good night . . ?” 

 

“Simon.” 

 

She smiled. “Good night, Simon.” 

 

She turns to walk away, eyeing the guy with blonde hair - Jace - up and down. But then, she hears, "Wait!"   
  


She turns and sees Simon walking up to meet her. When he reaches her, he kisses her. Her eyes open wide, but she doesn't pull back. Instead, she puts her hands in his hair and kisses back. The napkin with her number left behind. But they didn't notice.

* * *

They enter her room in her small apartment, and they fall onto the bed, her on top of him.

 

He slides up his body, kissing up his chest, then his throat, and then, finally, his lips. 

 

Then he freezes.

 

"What," she asks. She's sitting on his chest, her legs on either side of his torso. The straps of her dress have slid down her arm. Her hands are on either side of his head. Her red hair cascades them. All they can see is each other; all he sees her smile, but concern in her eyes, as well. All she sees is his face contorted in discomfort. 

 

"Sorry, sorry," he rushes out. 

 

"Why?" She frowns.

 

He looks down at his discomfort. And then back up at her. 

 

She grins. 

 

"Let's fix that, shall we?" 

 

"Um," he mumbles. 

 

She cocks her head to the side and smiles in sympathy. 

 

"You're a virgin." It wasn't a question.  

 

He nods. 

 

She laughs. "You won't be by the end of the night, I promise." 

 

And he wasn't. 

* * *

Simon wakes up in a bed that isn't his own. He is confused. He feels arms wrapped around his torso. He furrows his eyebrows in confusion. Then he looks down and sees that pale arms are, in fact, wrapped around him. 

 

He gently moves the arms off from his body. He sits up. He grabs his clothing from the floor and bed and hastily puts them on. 

 

He takes his sneakers from where they sat on the floor next to the bedside table. He slips them on quickly and ties the laces.

 

He gets up, about to walk to the door, but pauses when he hears a whispered "wait" from the bed. He looks back and sees Clary groggily sit up by her elbows.

 

She asks, "Do you still have the napkin?" 

 

It's then he realizes that he that he didn't have the napkin. He gulps and shakes his head. 

 

She nods, reaching across the mattress to the bedside table. She takes a pen and paper and writes her number again. She extends her arm, waving the paper for him to take. 

 

He reaches, and grabs the slip of paper. 

 

"Call me," she says, laying back down on the bed.

 

He nods his head in thank you and scurries out the door. 

* * *

The next morning, Simon is in friend's garage, thrumming his guitar. 

 

They are waiting for their last band member, Jordan, to join them so they can practice. 

 

Jace, the blonde from the night before, is sitting on a couch, sipping a beer. What Clary didn't know was that Simon and Jace were friends. All friends with the same people, too. 

 

Jace wasn't part of the band. He's a football player at his college. He thought it was too big of a loser move. Simon was jealous. All of Simon's friends were part of the football team, but Simon wasn't. He was too scrawny.

 

"Simon," Jace calls. "Heard you had sex last night." '

'

Simon's proud to admit that he did have sex last night.

 

:"Yep, I popped my cherry!" 

 

The whole garage cheers. 

 

"I'm proud!" Jace says. 

 

"Three times," Simon says, holding up three fingers. 

 

"I see," Jace drawls. "Making up for lost time." 

 

They all laugh. 

 

"You are one big slut," Jace says, walking up to Simon, clapping him on the back. He grabs another beer. "That girl was pretty, I'll tell you that. But that's not what you do. You're part of the crew." 

 

Simon smiled. He liked being part of the crew. He secretly pulls the piece of paper with Clary's number out. He rips it up, dropping the papers on the floor. 

 

Jordan walks in right as the pieces fall. "Hey," Jordan yells. "No littering in the garage!"

 

He bends down, picking up the pieces. He walks to the trash can and throws the paper out. 

 

He never calls her . . .

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


	2. Second meetings

Months passed, and Clary still hadn’t heard from Simon. 

 

But she had heard from Jace. 

 

And, while it had originally been his looks at first, she started to actually like him. While she waited to see if Simon showed up, Jace would come and sit with her; talking, laughing, joking . . . flirting. 

 

But she never got the courage to tell him that she liked him. For she still had feelings for Simon, but the more time she spent with Jace, the more time her feelings for the other dwindled. 

 

But after a while, Jace had also stopped showing up. It caused her sadness that both men she had interest in had bailed on her. 

 

But she supposed it wasn’t Jace’s fault; he talked much about his dream of not being an athlete, but a scholar . . . who knew football very well. (His extra comment always made her laugh.) 

* * *

Simon decides that it was fine time to go to the bar again. Now that he wasn’t a virgin, he wants to be with girls - experienced girls.

 

But he still has feelings for the red-headed painter. He couldn’t forget her. 

 

He leaned back against the wall, scouting for good-looking women. Oh, who was he kidding? He was surrounded by good-looking women! And surprisingly, none of them attracted his attention. 

 

No, he was subconsciously looking for, was Clary - the red-headed painter. 

 

He didn’t notice that his own eyes seemed to glaze over every other woman who didn’t have red hair.  

 

But he did notice when his eyes met the red-headed painter. She gave a wry smile, then glances away. He guesses that he deserved it. He never did call. 

 

So, he sighs and leans back against the wall again, not realizing that he had stepped forward in wanting to go to her. 

 

He tips his head back and groans. He blocks everything else out. 

 

But then, he hears his friend, Jordan, sneak up behind, trying to scare him. Simon isn’t fooled. So, he decides to turn the tables and scare him. 

 

Just as Jordan comes up behind him, Simon turns and says, “Boo!” 

 

It frightens Jordan, which is a surprise for Simon. His antics never used to work. 

 

“Damn,” he says, proud of Simon’s feat. “You actually scared me!” 

 

Simon chuckles, “Yeah.” He rubs the back of his neck, smiling awkwardly. “I guess I did.” 

 

“You’re getting better,” he says excitedly. He claps the back of Simon’s neck. 

 

“Well,” Simon chuckles “It is easier to do stuff without Jace here . . .” 

 

Jordan laughs. “You can say that again!” He pulls out a cigarette, lighting it up and taking a drag. When he puffs it out, he says, “and it’s easier to pick up girls. With Jace, one look at him and they’ll forget all about you!” 

 

“I love that Jace went to a new school,” Jordan exclaims. “Now I can get my pick . . .” 

 

He searches the area, looking out for attractive women that catch his eye. 

 

He finds one. 

 

“Hey,” Jordan says, pointing at the red-headed painter. “Isn’t that the girl who took you  _ home _ ?” 

 

Simon looks at her again. “Oh yeah, she is,” he says, as if he didn’t already see her. 

 

Jordan turns to look at him, a gleam in his eyes. “You don’t mind if I - I don’t know - dance with her?” 

 

Simon does mind. He wants to dance with her. But, instead, he shrugs: “sure.” 

 

Jordan claps him on the back. “Wish me luck, man!” 

 

He watches as he strides over to her, she looks up at him, smiling. He can’t hear over the loud noise of music and talking, but he sees Jordan motion to the dance floor with his head, and he sees her nod. She takes his extended hand, and when she stands up, she glances at him, her face indifferent, but he could see in her eyes that she’s confused. 

 

He tries to not watch them, tries not to be jealous, tries not to care - but he fails. Oh, he fails miserably! And when the dance is over, Simon closed his eyes, taking a deep breath - preparing himself to talk to her. 

 

Another guy tries to approach her, but he dashes in front him, reaching her first. 

 

“Hey,” he says, acting cool, but really trying to disguise his pants.    
  


She looks him up and down, questioning him and why he hasn’t called. 

 

She meets his flustered gaze. 

 

“Hello,” she says curtly. 

 

He glances at the dance floor. “Would you like to dance?”   
  


She wearily takes his hand, nodding. “Sure,” she says. 

 

He pulls her onto the dance floor, pulling her close to his body. He looks down at her while she looks up at him. He smiles. She doesn’t. 

 

After a few silent moments, she asks, “why didn’t you call.” 

 

He swallows, nervous. “Um - I wanted to - I did. But you know - see - I - I mean -” 

 

He groans, throwing his head back. She laughs, snuggling into his chest. Her stomach flutters at his awkwardness. 

 

He takes a breath, steadying himself. “I wanted to call - I did, but I lost your number” - he lies - “and I only knew your name . . . what good does that do?” He looks down into her eyes, trying to see if she believes her lies. He can’t tell. 

 

“Uh-huh,” she says amused. 

 

“Yeah,” he says defeated. 

 

She leans her back onto his chest, smiling. But after a few seconds, she wonders,  _ where is his friend?  _ She inwardly smiles at the thought of the friend. 

 

She asks. “Where’s your friend - Jace?” 

 

He pales. “Oh, he’s married.”

 

“Really?” She says, disappointed.

 

He nods, then frowns. “You sound disappointed,” he notes accusingly. 

 

She gives a small smile, shaking her head. “I’m not. Just surprised, that’s all.” 

 

He nods, though he doesn’t quite believe her.  

 

Then, to Clary’s great surprise and Simon’s demise, Jace waltzes in, patting Simon on the back. “Hey,” he says, grinning. He glances at Clary, giving a real smile. “What are you all doing?” 

 

“Dancing -” Clary interrupts him, asking, “Your wife lets you go dancing?” She’s bewildered. 

 

Jace furrows his eyebrows, glancing at Simon. Simon pleads with his eyes for Jace to go along with the lie. 

 

Jace understands. He looks at Clary and says, “No, I am not married. Don’t listen to my friend here” - he glances at Simon - “he’s lying to you. Come with me. I want to dance with you.” 

 

She looks at him, hurt etched on her face. She detaches herself from him, taking Jace’s hand and he pulls her away, leaving Simon betrayed, confused, and hurt. They go to the side of the dance floor, and Clary slides her hands around Jace, laying her head on his heart. He kisses her forehead, smiling. 

 

That’s what Jace wishes he said and wishes what happened. But for the first time, Jace proves he wasn’t selfish: 

 

“Yup! Yes, I am married. And, uh, she lets me hang out with the guys every Friday and I let her get a mani-pedi every Friday. Great plan.” 

 

Clary tries to hide her disappointment, and it works. But to be honest, she isn’t that disappointed, she really does like Simon. He’s geeky, she likes it. 

 

So, Jace walks away to hit on some other girl, leaving Simon and Clary swaying to the slow music. She puts her head on his chest, and his arms wrap around her petite body. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



End file.
